


Hope and Bourbon

by innerslytherin



Series: The Fifth Year [6]
Category: Criminal Minds
Genre: Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-11-21
Updated: 2009-11-21
Packaged: 2017-10-03 12:55:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,718
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18316
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/innerslytherin/pseuds/innerslytherin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dave and Emily help Aaron at a turning point.  <i>Coda to Hopeless</i> - <b>SPOILERS</b>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hope and Bourbon

**Author's Note:**

> Scripture quoted is from Romans 12:19-21. Betaed by [](http://resolucidity.livejournal.com/profile)[**resolucidity**](http://resolucidity.livejournal.com/) and [](http://severity-softly.livejournal.com/profile)[**severity_softly**](http://severity-softly.livejournal.com/).

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
**Current mood:** |   
bouncy  
---|---  
**Entry tags:** |   
[cm fics: season five series](http://innerslytherin.livejournal.com/tag/cm+fics:+season+five+series), [my cm fics: non-collaborative](http://innerslytherin.livejournal.com/tag/my+cm+fics:+non-collaborative), [my fics: criminal minds](http://innerslytherin.livejournal.com/tag/my+fics:+criminal+minds), [pairing: hotch/reid](http://innerslytherin.livejournal.com/tag/pairing:+hotch/reid), [pairing: rossi/prentiss](http://innerslytherin.livejournal.com/tag/pairing:+rossi/prentiss)  
  
  
_**FIC: Hope and Bourbon, Prentiss/Rossi &amp; Hotch/Reid, PG**_  
**Title:** Hope and Bourbon  
**Pairings:** Prentiss/Rossi, Hotch/Reid  
**Rating:** PG  
**WC:** 2620  
**Summary:** Dave and Emily help Aaron at a turning point. _Coda to Hopeless_ \- **SPOILERS**.  
**Notes:** Scripture quoted is from Romans 12:19-21. Betaed by [](http://resolucidity.livejournal.com/profile)[**resolucidity**](http://resolucidity.livejournal.com/) and [](http://severity-softly.livejournal.com/profile)[**severity_softly**](http://severity-softly.livejournal.com/).

**Series:** This is part of a series of Season Five episode tags I've been writing.  
1\. [Not So Alone](http://innerslytherin.livejournal.com/1031742.html)  
2\. [Weeping Endures for a Night](http://innerslytherin.livejournal.com/1032872.html)  
3\. [The Blink of an Eye](http://innerslytherin.livejournal.com/1033605.html)  
4\. [Trust and Regret](http://innerslytherin.livejournal.com/1034731.html)  
5\. [Something Pretty Wonderful](http://innerslytherin.livejournal.com/1036031.html)

 

The whiskey was a gamble.

It wasn't that Dave thought Aaron would be surprised to see a bottle of Eagle Rare bourbon show up in his office. It was more that bringing Emily in on the whole thing was a gamble. But Dave had adopted, since their last case, a policy of including Emily on a lot of things he wouldn't normally.

She still hadn't said the words back, but he knew she hadn't forgotten about his declaration of love in the middle of the bullpen. He could be patient as far as hearing the words went. So since she'd learned about Emma, he was doing his best to show Emily that he wasn't keeping secrets from her.

The truth was, he'd walked away from Commack, Long Island, a long time ago. He'd put it behind him, and he'd never planned to go back. He hadn't even thought about Emma for years, aside from the shock of her death. It had been pure bad luck that Emily had been there when he'd been forced to deal with his past.

He hadn't missed the way she'd been with him during the whole case, though. She'd thrown her support behind him and had trusted his reaction to Aaron walking away from the standoff. There'd been no hesitation, no questioning...just pure trust.

It still seemed like a miracle that she gave him that.

So the whiskey was a gamble.

But even the late-night talk between Spencer and Aaron hadn't seemed to produce the results Dave was looking for. It wasn't that he thought Aaron would suddenly magically be fixed. He wasn't looking for an end to the grief and frustration Aaron felt over Foyet's holding his son's childhood hostage. He just wanted a lessening of Aaron's load. He wanted someone to shoulder some of that burden--

No. He wanted Aaron to _let_ someone shoulder some of that burden. He wanted to see evidence in his best friend's demeanor that he _trusted_ Spencer. Not the sort of trust they all had in Spencer. The sort of trust that meant Aaron believed in what Spencer felt for him. The sort of trust that meant Aaron was embracing the idea of having a helpmeet, someone who _wasn't_ his high-school sweetheart, but who _was_ capable of standing next to him to meet the demands of their lives.

He wanted, in short, to see his oldest friend take a deep breath and smile again.

So far he hadn't seen that. So, the whiskey.

 

***

 

She'd thought Dave was crazy.

She wouldn't have said so for the world, of course, particularly after the touching faith he had shown in Hotch. She'd looked to Dave for cues at the standoff and liked the way he believed in their unit chief. More than any other indicator of Hotch's mental and emotional well-being, she depended on Dave to be her barometer.

Still, she'd thought that pulling a hidden bottle of bourbon out of his desk drawer was a bit much. She'd loved the feeling of badass, unshakeable _unity_ that had developed between the three of them as they walked away from the standoff. She just hadn't expected it to last long enough to excuse a contraband bottle of whiskey.

Clearly she didn't know her unit chief as well as Dave, not that that was a surprise in any way.

She'd been standing in Dave's office, about to ask if he wanted to buy her a drink, when he opened his desk drawer.

"Buy you a drink?" he'd asked, and grinned at her as he held up the bottle.

"Dave!" She'd stared in shock, but she couldn't help being thrilled that David Rossi was still a rule-breaker. He had settled down a lot, but he hadn't lost the bad-boy edge that drew her to him, even if she knew damn well he was a good guy underneath.

His grin widened. "I think someone else is in need of a drink. And we'd better get started before Reid gets here, or we won't have any time with him at all."

She'd raised her eyebrows, then shrugged. "I'm in." Reid and JJ wouldn't be back from the station for at least half an hour, and she thought Dave was crazy, but she was never one to turn down a glass of good bourbon.

He'd sent her to get glasses from the kitchenette, and less than three minutes later they were walking into Hotch's office.

Dave didn't even hesitate--didn't even knock. He just walked in, and Emily took her cue from him and followed. Dave held out the glasses, and Hotch didn't hesitate either. He reached out and accepted a glass, then held it up for Dave to pour.

It had sent a tiny thrill through Emily, the thought that she'd somehow been accepted to the true inner sanctum. Hotch was accepting her, not as a team member, or even as one of the boys, but as a true drinking partner.

There might not be a difference in anyone else's perception, but there was to her.

Of course, she still thought Dave was crazy. There were just advantages to having people around that were as crazy as you.

 

***

 

Spencer had felt mostly useless for most of the case.

Sure, he was used to being the brainiac on the team. Someone wanted a fact or statistic, they always came to him. He knew his strengths were in thinking and talking, not running or shooting. All the same, he'd felt particularly useless on this case.

He'd seen that Morgan was off his game, but he'd been unable to get through to him. He'd known Garcia was upset, but she still wasn't talking to him on a personal level, despite the fifty dollar gift card he'd bought her for MP3 downloads. And Dave and Emily were absent for most of the case.

Somehow Spencer had expected things to be different after he told Aaron that he needed him. And things _had_ been different, to an extent. Aaron had called him in the middle of the night twice now, both times after nightmares, and Spencer had talked to him about the Impressionist school of painting or the history of agriculture in California until Aaron's breathing had steadied out over the phone line. Aaron had brought coffee and bagels in for both of them on three occasions. He'd even remembered that Spencer liked jelly on his bagels instead of cream cheese.

But there hadn't been passionate declarations or heated kisses. There had barely been any physical connection at all. It was maddening, especially when Spencer had wanted for years to press his solid, handsome superior against the nearest wall and kiss him breathless.

Of course, Spencer wasn't exactly in the best physical condition to be pushing anyone against anything. It was possible that Aaron was biding his time. Spencer hoped that was the case. He couldn't think of what it might be otherwise.

It hadn't been a good ending to the case, but at least Spencer knew that the team had walked away from it. Led by Aaron, they had left vengeance to the local police. It was good to know that, since he also knew how obsessed Aaron was with finding Foyet and reclaiming his life. He'd suspected Aaron was tempted by the thought of vengeance, and it was reassuring to know that he could walk away. He still wanted to get back to the office so he could see with his own eyes that Aaron was okay.

He really hadn't expected to get to the bullpen and hear _laughter_ coming from Aaron's office.

 

***

 

There had been a moment where Aaron looked at Detective Andrews and saw, with painful clarity, what could happen to himself. He saw the anger and frustration, and he recognized them. He saw the helpless fury and the guilt, the knowledge that he was supposed to _protect_ people, and he _couldn't_ protect people from these animals. He knew those emotions. He'd been experiencing them for the past two months since his son was taken into protective custody.

He had driven himself all through his physical therapy with thoughts of catching and punishing Foyet. He had prepared himself to return to work by swearing he would have vengeance. He had forced himself to stay in his violated apartment with a refusal to let Foyet have the little victories.

In the meantime he'd forgotten about the big victories that Foyet was really after.

Foyet had taken Aaron's sense of security. He had taken his family. He had taken his health and strength, albeit temporarily. He also wanted to take Aaron's joy, his confidence in the profile, his conviction that Aaron Hotchner had no authority to make deals with the devil. Even in the name of vengeance. _I'm the guy who hunts guys like you_, he had told Foyet.

Not punish. Not kill. Hunt. It was Aaron's job to catch Foyet. It was someone else's job to punish him. That was the essence of the justice system. More than that, it was the healthy way to do it.

"Vengeance is mine, sayeth the Lord," Aaron murmured, staring into his glass. It was the second glass, and he'd already realized he was going to have to share a cab home with Dave or Prentiss. He didn't care. It was worth it to have this companionship with them, to feel this connected. The only thing he really missed right now was Spencer's presence.

Dave shifted in his seat, but it was Emily who spoke. "Therefore if thine enemy hunger, feed him; if he thirst, give him drink: for in so doing thou shalt heap coals of fire on his head. Be not overcome of evil, but overcome evil with good." Her voice was low and husky, and the way she looked at him actually made him shiver. She _believed_ in him. It was the sort of confidence he had lost in himself, but Emily still had it. Dave still had it.

And, miracle of miracles, Spencer still had it.

There was a clatter of metal against wood, then someone knocked on the open door. "Is this a private party?" Spencer asked.

Emily and Dave turned, smiling at him, and he smiled back, but his gaze was on Aaron's.

"Actually," Aaron said, standing up and finishing his drink, "I was just thinking I should head home. Would you like to share a cab?"

 

***

 

Emily hadn't had as much bourbon as Dave had; she was fine to drive. He gave her the keys to the Bentley and watched her adjust the seat, stroking the leather lovingly. He occasionally thought she got revved up just by driving his car. It was why he'd started driving that more often than the truck these days. That, and he liked the way she looked with her dark hair against the pale leather. They hadn't broken in the back seat, but the way she was looking at him, he had a feeling he and the Bentley both might get lucky tonight.

 

***

 

"Do you still have a ready bag here?" Aaron's voice was quiet despite the emptiness of the bullpen. Spencer looked up from his desk in surprise, then nodded.

"I don't really want to share a cab," Aaron said. "Or...I do, but I want to share it to my place." He looked oddly nervous, and Spencer couldn't help but be charmed. "I'd like you to stay with me, Spencer."

Spencer smiled broadly at him. "I'd like that," he said. Aaron held out his hand to take Spencer's bag. They went down to wait for the cab, Spencer feeling twitchy with nerves, but excited.

"I don't know what I'm ready for," Aaron murmured, his gaze steady on Spencer's. "But I want you near me." He paused, then added, "You bring me strength."

Spencer felt like he might light up with happiness, but he just curled his fingers briefly around Aaron's wrist. "I'm glad," he murmured.

The cab ride was silent, just two colleagues sharing a cab. Aside from that one touch, they didn't make contact. They didn't make conversation either, but Spencer wasn't unhappy about it. He felt comfortable being quiet with Aaron. There was no need to force conversation.

When they got to Aaron's apartment, Spencer was shocked at the amount of security Aaron had installed. For the hundredth time it hit home with him how unsafe Aaron must have been feeling since the attack.

They sat on the couch with bourbon and didn't talk for a long time. Finally Aaron said, "I've been afraid. Not of what's between us..." He trailed off and shook his head. "I've been afraid of what's inside me. The darkness of my anger and fear and thirst for vengeance. I wanted Foyet dead. I still want him dead."

Spencer opened his mouth, but Aaron raised a hand without looking at him.

"I want him dead, but this case made me realize that I am not the one who should kill him. When you take a life in the line of duty, that's one thing. It's necessary and horrible, but you're not to blame. When you take a life in vengeance..." He shook his head. "I won't become Judge Schuller. I'm supposed to hunt and catch Foyet. The justice system is supposed to try and execute him."

Spencer set his drink down and curled his fingers around Aaron's. "You're a good man, Aaron," he said quietly. "You've had a lot to deal with, but you've never stopped being a good man."

Aaron gripped his hand tightly but lifted his glass and drained it in a long gulp. "I let Darrin Call kill his father. I thought the Hollow Creek Killer should be brought to justice. It seemed simpler to let him pull the trigger." His voice was hoarse.

Spencer tightened his fingers on Aaron's. "You couldn't stop him in time," he said quietly. "You were still recovering, and maybe you came back to work too soon, but you did your best, and you saved Darrin Call." He leaned forward, turning to meet Aaron's gaze. "And you're back. You're on your game, and you're our unit chief."

Aaron's expression crumbled. "How can you have such faith in me?" he asked. He wrapped his arms around Spencer and pulled him close. Spencer got one arm around him, the other trapped between them.

"You've always given me reason to have faith in you," he whispered. "You've never let me down."

"I let people down all the time."

Spencer shook his head, but instead of speaking he just pulled back and covered Aaron's lips with his own.

It was their first kiss, and it was more wonderful and exciting and terrifying than Spencer could have imagined. Aaron melted into the kiss, surrendering control to Spencer, who wasn't sure he wanted it. But he worked his other arm free and stroked his fingers through Aaron's hair as they kissed. Aaron let out a small sigh and opened his mouth to him, and their tongues brushed lightly, then more passionately. Spencer moaned and pulled Aaron closer, and then his knee wrenched and he let out a noise that was much closer to a whimper.

Aaron pulled back, wide-eyed and breathing hard. "I hurt you," he said.

"My knee twinged," Spencer said. "I just need to shift around a little. I want to do that again."

Aaron lifted a hand and brushed his knuckles gently against Spencer's cheek. "I don't know how I got lucky enough to have you," he whispered. "But I need you too, Spencer. I wanted to tell you that."

And that was better than all the kisses in the world.


End file.
